


for the love of a daughter

by rockethop



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Baby Names, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Other, Pregnancy, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25373809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockethop/pseuds/rockethop
Summary: Everyone has a weakness - it just so happens that Ben's is a little girl with blonde hair, blue eyes, and his nose.A series of vignettes following Ben and Sonia's relationship throughout their lives. A love story to all of the father-daughter duos of the world.
Relationships: Leslie Knope/Ben Wyatt
Comments: 17
Kudos: 25





	1. what's in a name

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to all of the father and daughter relationships.
> 
> A series of vignettes about Ben and Sonia's relationship throughout their lives. Not necessarily in chronological order, at least as of publishing date. I may go through and reorganize them once this story/mini-series is complete.

“Sonia,” Leslie says matter-of-factly. “As in Sonia Sotomayor, the first Latina to serve on the Supreme Court.”

They’re sitting on the couch watching a movie and eating ice cream directly from the tub when the thought occurs to her. As soon as it leaves her lips she feels silly. It sounds absurd, naming their child after one of her political and feminist heroes. Somewhere on the TV screen in front of her, Buttercup just pushed Westley into a ravine. She’s about to recant her statement when Ben nods.

“I like that,” he says simply.

“Really? No veto?” She’s pleasantly surprised. They’d been trying to come up with baby names ever since they had learned the sexes of their children and every suggestion either one had made thus far had been shot down by the other.

“No veto,” he confirms. He’s quiet as if lost in thought then clears his throat. “What do you think - and I think I have a pretty good idea on where you stand on this - but what do you think about making her middle name ‘Ann’?”

“Oh,” Leslie’s voice breaks with the waterworks now spilling from her eyes. She’d blame it on her hormones but they both know it’s futile. “Damn you, Wyatt.” She laughs before wiping her cheeks. “Yes. A million times, yes. But why? What’s your reasoning? I didn’t know that you two were so close.”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that her best friend sold out her feelings to him all those years ago, so he pushes his spoon back into the vanilla ice cream instead.

“I kind of owe her a lot.”


	2. harvest fest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toddler Sonia was such a treat to write.
> 
> Dedicated to my favorite boy, Scooter. I love your dumb ass so much.

They’re back in Pawnee at Leslie’s request for the Harvest Festival that’s being put on by the successors of the parks department. Admittedly, Ben would have agreed to come back solely for the opportunity to relive the memories of the early days of their relationship, but she’d jumped into bed in full attack mode, prepared to persuade him into taking a weekend trip away from Washington and he didn’t want to quell her fervor. Especially if that passion would eventually transcend beyond persuasion and into physicality. 

The little girl tugs on his hand, breaking him from the memory with wide eyes, in awe of the animal standing a considerable distance in front of her.

“Horsey,” she points.

Her tiny finger is directing him to look at the makeshift pen across the pathway that’s been constructed for pony rides. A brown horse with a white stripe on his face stares at them, tail swishing from side to side. He returns to stretching his head between the posts in an attempt to eat some grass that is just barely out of reach. Sonia gives Ben’s hand a pull again.

“Please?” She asks sweetly, mustering up all the politeness that her little body can muster. She seems oblivious to the effect that her soft blue eyes have on him and he’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

“Okay,” he sighs. “But we’re only going to look at him.”

She cheers -- triumphantly as well as in gratitude -- and they set off towards the pen. The stocky bay colored horse’s ears flick forward as they approach the fence and he lowers his head to sniff at Sonia’s pockets. When he finds them empty, he nudges her belly gently with his muzzle which causes her to erupt with giggles and stumble backwards, her father’s steady grip on her hand the only thing keeping her upright. The horse snorts and darts his tongue out to lick at the exposed skin of her arm.

“That’s Scooter,” the vendor shouts from across the pen then hobbles over towards them. “He’s… an interesting horse.”

As if to prove the vendor’s point, Scooter points his nose in Ben’s direction, pushing it further and further towards Ben’s face until the velvety skin makes contact with Ben’s palm as he tries to prevent the horse from licking his face. Scooter’s eyes widen, giving him an almost goofy facial expression.

“Is he alright?” Ben asks. “His eyes almost seem too wide for his head.”

The horse snorts and Ben grimaces before wiping the moisture on his hand on the railing in disgust. The vendor chuckles.

“He’s as lazy as he is hungry. It’s why he has no mane. Rubs his damn hair out on the fence when he sticks his fat neck through it trying to eat what’s left of the grass.”

The conversation lulls and Scooter lowers his head again, evidently more interested in the few remaining patches of grass within his reach now that he’s realized the visitors don’t have treats hidden in their pockets.

“Where’s the missus?” The vendor finally asks. Ben fiddles with his sunglasses. He wasn’t aware that his family still had name-face recognition with the citizens of Pawnee.

“Somewhere around here with our boys. Most likely eating food that would scare both cardiologists and nutritionists.”

This gets a laugh out of the vendor. Ben feels an all too familiar pull on his wrist again. Sonia doesn’t say anything, just looks up at her father before turning back to the horse with complete reverence. He sighs.

“How much?” He asks.

“Ten dollars.”

_ “Ten dollars?!”  _ Ben all but shrieks, but Scooter’s kneeling on his front legs to nip at the weeds by Sonia’s toes, prompting her to giggle uncontrollably.

He huffs and pushes a hand into his front pocket to fish out his wallet. The money changes hands and Sonia’s whisked away to be placed on Scooter’s back and walked around the pen, seemingly as slow as possible as the horse moves languidly. He’s easily distracted by food, apparently, because his body jolts to life when the vendor grabs a carrot from a bag that’s been stashed away. The vendor dangles it just out of Scooter’s reach, walking all around the pen in straight and curved lines and weaving around the other horses.

The sun is hot on Ben’s neck as he stands on the sidelines, the metal of the fence warming his skin to nearly unbearable levels through his plaid shirt. He’s about ready to resign himself to being upset for the rest of the day over having been skimmed by the vendor when the horse manages to bite the tip off of the carrot and Sonia guffaws in delight.

Suddenly the hole in his wallet doesn’t burn as intensely.


	3. boys with cars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a teenaged Sonia... remind you of anyone?

He’s chopping vegetables for dinner when Sonia enters the kitchen.

“How was school, Sonia?” Leslie asks from the island while nursing a glass of wine.

“It was good,” she responds, hands rising anxiously as she fiddles with the ring on her finger. “Actually, I have something to ask you guys.” She pauses for a moment, waiting to continue until after she’s secured their attention. “Can I go to a concert on Friday? Well, I guess it’s more of a festival.”

“Where?” Ben asks her.

“Indianapolis,” she says tentatively. It doesn’t bode well for her that her parents glance at each other, communicating seemingly telepathically.

“When is it?” prompts Leslie.

“Friday morning.”

Leslie smiles regretfully. “I’m sorry, honey. You can’t miss school.”

Her face lights up with an explosion of hope. “Okay, so what if I went after? That way I wouldn’t have to miss school and I can still see the later acts? You wouldn’t even have to drive me, my friend said they could take me.”

“Which friend?” Ben’s brow furrows.

She shys. “His name is Brady, we have calculus together.”

“No.  _ Nononono. _ ” He laughs, incredulous, then turns his attention back to the vegetables he’s chopping. “No concerts, no boys, no cars.”

“It’s not like that,” she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” his hands halt and he cocks his head. “It  _ is _ like that, Sonia. I was a sixteen-year-old boy once. You know what I wanted to do with girls in my car when I was sixteen?”

“Gross! Stop!” She looks to her mother, desperate for any assistance that she can get. “Please?”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Leslie says.

“Dad,” she pleads. “I’ll keep my phone with me the whole time.”

“No.”

“What if Stephen and Westley came with me?”

“Nope.”

“What if-”

He drops the knife into the sink. “Sonia, I said no. Stop pushing it.”

Her face twists as desperation contorts into frustration, jaw setting and fists clenching. “You’re such a jerk!”

It catches him off guard, but suddenly she’s twenty years older, going toe to toe with him over the imminent threat of a slashed Parks and Recreation department, arms folded over her chest in an attempt to protect herself from his authority. The visual tugs at the corner of his mouth, pulling his lips into a smirk despite his best efforts to suppress it. She stomps her foot and groans before turning on her heel to stomp away to her bedroom.

“What are you smiling at?” Leslie laughs. Ben stares at her for a moment, eyes soft.

“Nothing.”


	4. smallest scares

Leslie’s exhausted. He can’t exactly blame her. Between the jitters and adrenaline and anxiety of induced labor, localized anesthesia, and three helpless, tiny humans now relying on the two of them for every need, Ben’s not surprised that Leslie’s not awake. He’s not surprised that she hasn’t been awake for hours now. What he  _ is  _ surprised about is how she’s managed to balance two babies in her arms during the process - a wondrous mix of maternal instincts and Leslie Knope overachievement.

Across the room, their daughter lays in the hospital bassinet, sleeping with the occasional squirm and wiggle. He’s overwhelmed by something. Not pride, but a sentiment very similar to it. To be completely honest, he’s too tired to remember the exact term. The infant writhes one last time before letting out a piercing scream. Ben bounds across the floor as quietly as possible and scoops Sonia into his arms and rushes her towards the nurse’s station, partially motivated by an attempt to not wake his sleeping wife but also fueled by sheer panic.

“You have to take her, you have to do something,” he pleads with the older woman that he finds staffing the desk. “She’s so little and she’s completely helpless and I don’t know what to do.”

The greying lady pumps some sanitizer into her hands and rubs them together before gathering the crying baby in her arms. She smooths her hand along Sonia’s back. “I know, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“How do you know? How are you sure?” Ben questions franticly.

“I was talking to this angel right here,” she says softly. “But I know because I’ve seen this before a thousand times. She needs her daddy.”

The woman turns towards him with what Ben hopes is a supportive smile, but he could also see it being a look of pity.

“No, no, no, no, no, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he stammers, but it’s too late. The nurse has already placed Sonia back in his folded arms.

“Higher, baby,” she prompts. “Little ones can’t see too far.” She adjusts his arms so that he’s holding Sonia higher, cradling her closer to his chest and to his face. “There you go. Now she can get a good look at you.”

The wailing continues to bounce off the walls in the hallway and the dread rises in Ben’s throat. How was he ever going to be a good father if he couldn’t even comfort his own child? He freezes. This realization is worse than the college fund calculations and cost of living spreadsheets.  _ This  _ realization can’t be fixed through years of bad credit and loans and a couple of ego-wounding phone calls to his parents asking for their financial assistance. This realization has the potential to ruin three bright futures and a happy marriage.

His hands feel clammy, trembling far too hard to have ever been within his control during his lifetime. They move hesitantly towards the little girl’s face, seemingly of their own accord, when her tiny arm flails and her palm catches and curls against his finger. She whimpers. Her little blue eyes struggle open and they meet his. She suddenly falls silent.

_ Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.  _

He can do this. Nothing this small can be that scary, right?


	5. late nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last update was over a month ago, I'm so sorry!! My last semester of college/university is now here so I've been swamped with work but I sat down for a bit tonight to write this drabble.

“Leslie,” Ben jolts into a sitting position, their comforter falling from his chest into a pool in his lap. “Leslie!” He jostles his wife from her sleep.

“What?” She groans before pulling a pillow over her eyes.

“How are you not freaking out about this? A girl? Leslie. We’re having a  _ girl.” _

“I know, Ben,” she sighs. “I was there.” She rolls over and takes his hands in hers.

“Boys are easy,” He sighs. “Boys like Star Wars and knights and cars.”

“Little girls also like Star Wars and knights and cars.”

“I had a little sister. I assure you that she didn’t like Star Wars or cars.”

“Okay,” Leslie concedes with a giggle. “Maybe most little girls don’t like cars. But they grow up to be teenage girls that like boys with cars.”

“No. God, please don’t say that. It’s way too early for me to be worried about stuff like that.” His chest heaves and Leslie can already sense the oncoming panic attack.

“Ben. Honey.” She brings his knuckles to her lips and places a series of light kisses against the rough skin until he’s grounded once more. She gazes lovingly up at his anxious face and guides his palm to the top of her small extended stomach.

“What is that?” He asks. “I mean, I’m not stupid, I know what it is but I thought it was too early for you to feel.” Leslie shakes her head no and gives his hand a squeeze as the baby flutters underneath them.

“Do you remember earlier when we were with Dr. Saperstein?” Ben nods then squints in confusion. Leslie giggles and continues, “Baby girl is right in the middle of all the madness.”

“That’s our little girl?” Ben chokes, his voice thick. “She’s the one kicking?”

“Yes,” Leslie’s voice quivers. “Stop that. You can’t be emotional around a pregnant lady. That’s our thing. It’s because of all the hormones and stuff.” She sniffs and inches closer to Ben.

“Leslie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so fucking screwed.”


End file.
